Rhapsody in Blue
by Conan Fleming
Summary: From 1928 to 1941, the world's most beautiful train, the Blue Comet, roamed the rails between Jersey City and Atlantic City, New Jersey, in all its regal blue splendor. Unfortunately, the Great Depression of the 1930s turned its fortune and its engines found themselves in dire times. Read the story behind the train, as told through the eyes of its engines.
1. The End is Never the End

Prologue - The End is Never the End

Luria Brothers Yard, Modena, PA, 1954

A slow wind blew through the tiny borough of Modena, Pennsylvania, casting a grey blanket of clouds that blotted out the morning sun's light. The tall, dry grasses by the old wrecking yard ebbed and flowed like an ocean's wave, evoking memories of the shining North Atlantic coast that were once her stomping ground. The wind then picked up, howling softly and eerily between the long lines of engines as it swept across the landscape. These beasts, once proud and shining, stood now as testaments to their demotion, blackened and rusted from inattention and exposure to the elements.

In one part of the yard, under a large tin shack for a shed, a lonely steam locomotive stood silent. Because her eyes, a now faded hazel, were the only things able to move on her, she spent her time scanning around the yard. To her left and in front of her were dead steam locomotives; to the right, the wall of an engine shed. It made for cramped accommodations, but she was at least lucky that she had a roof over her head, despite its rust and cracks. Her paintwork, blackened and dirtied from years of neglect, no longer shone the brilliant blue it once was when she was the pride of the line. A slow blink and a glance downward at her front all but confirmed her feelings as she let out a quiet sigh. She wanted to cry, but that time had already passed and she was now dry of tears.

The sound of voices in the distance made her look up suddenly with a quiet gasp. Men in thick lead-lined blacksmithing covers and coveralls soon ambled their way into the shed, jovially conversing amongst themselves as they shared their coffee. Their sounds of merrymaking echoed through the old shed, piercing her ears as she tried to cut herself off from that cacophonous rhapsody. After the noise died down, she seemed to relax and let out a gentle sigh, as one young shop-worker approached her with a hot thermos of coffee. He looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, a fresh face amongst the old guard that huddled around the break area like crows. The male stopped by her pilot's sidesteps and looked at her endearingly, almost nostalgically as he took a swig.

"Well, 832," He said, a sympathetic smile on his face, "How're you feeling today?"

"Fine…" She said hoarsely, her face feeling like stone as she was very stiff to speak. The male continued to smile as he spent his time with her.

"Look, I'm sorry it had to happen like this," He said, dropping his gaze slightly as he set his coffee down on her pilot, "And if I could do anything, I could have by now…"

She looked away and sighed. A flood of feelings began rushing back to her, about how she was demoted from her special train too young in her life, how she was reduced to stopping trains to get by, and then when she just plain stopped running. Her friends, now blurred faces in her memory, began to dwindle as her own service dried up. She could hardly remember any of them now. It was funny to her, a locomotive at 26 years old, and yet she was already feeling like an antique. The word "obsolescence" came into mind as she looked away from the boy and retreated into her own thoughts. The friendly worker soon got the message and grabbed his coffee, finishing up the last remnants of that sweet, energetic nectar, before he loped back to his crew so the day could start. To her, it was just another day at the scrapyard, but that brought with it the lingering thought that any day could be her last day.

A loud rumble suddenly filled the air, directing her eyes above the other rows of dormant locomotives and to the mainline. A set of orange and blue EMD FT-model diesels rumbled past with a fast freight. Its prime movers roared and spat out black clouds of clag as the diesels hustled past the yard, a trail of boxcars rumbling behind it. As the train passed by, her eyes narrowed. She could have thought that symbol of modernity was yelling slurs at her former co-workers and cousins, possibly kicking them while they were down. But alas, it was all in her head, and she returned to looking at the ground, saddened. Around her, the sounds of the scrapyard soon filled the air, as the harsh grindings of a circular saw and the vindictive hiss of a blowtorch rang throughout the yard like funeral bells.

In response, the locomotive shut her tired eyes and prayed to live another day. In those sounds, she saw her brother and sister taken. Then, they came for her cousins and friends. Then they came for her. In all her life, she could not have predicted this, but only one thing was certain:

The Blue Comet could not end this way.

/o oOOO o - o o o o


	2. Into the World

Chapter 1: Into the World

 _Baldwin Locomotive Works, Eddystone, PA, 1928_

It had been the smell of oil and paint that first made the steam locomotive open her eyes, casting her bright, hazel eyes at the sight around them. Huge clouds of smoke and steam filled the air as the sounds of industry surrounded her. Men from all sides were barking orders in indeterminable languages, as steam hammers and pile drivers smacked and pounded against hot metal, creating a mighty rhythm that echoed around the facility. Outside the paint shed doors, trains of many types and colors were busy being switched and shunted into different sidings, and to 831, no two locomotives seemed to look alike to her. Feeling bored of just staring straight ahead, 831's eyes began to curiously look around, just to get a bearing on her surroundings. Above her was a large catwalk with men walking and looking down at her, whistling and smiling as the continued on their business.

" _Why would they be looking at me…?"_ , she wondered, then suddenly thought, " _Wait, who's that in my head!?"_

"Hey, 831!" yelled out a foreman, as he stepped up to her with a clipboard, "We're about to start delivering you to Jersey City, so we'll have a switcher take you to the flatcars."

"Flatcars?" 831 wondered out loud, snapping out of her inner thinking, "What are those? And where am I even? Who's 831?"

"Ah, these new engines," the foreman muttered carelessly under his breath, as he stepped away, "Always with the questions…"

831 was left feeling rather confused as the foreman walked away. Whatever was he on about? She didn't have time to ruminate on this for long, as a little switching locomotive approached her with some crew in tow. The locomotive was painted a dark olive grey with white lining, the number "26" emblazoned in white along his headlight and cab sides. He had a soft warm face and spoke in a quiet, friendly tone as his couplers were soon lashed against 831's front.

"Ah, look at you!" 26 said in a sharp, youthful voice, looking straight at her, "You must be one of the new ones!"

"New ones?" 831 asked, raising an eyebrow as she spoke in a tomboyish tone. Her face grimaced slightly as she felt the shop crews fiddling with her controls.

"Don't you worry about it, 831" 26 chortled as he began to pull her out of the shed, steam thundering out of his stack, "You're on good rails now! Soon, you'll be heading out there and working your wheels off for a worthy cause!"

"What cause is this?" 831 said quietly, as she was dragged slowly out of the shed.

"Why, the cause of keeping us steam locomotives running!" 26 grinned as he cautiously backed up.

As 26 continued to pull 831 out of the shed, the first rays of sunlight hit her face and she gasped. She felt enveloped in its warmth, so comfortable as her wheels turned slowly for the first time, her shining steel side-rods clanking gently against each other. 26's exhaust began to grow louder as the shadow of his smoke blocked out the sun for a brief moment, as the two locomotives began to negotiate the tight curves that lay outside the paint shed.

"Here's where it gets tight!" 26 grinned, then said, "By the way, I'm afraid I haven't introduced myself! My name's Felix, I'm the shop switcher here at Baldwin!"

"Felix?" 831 wondered for a moment, as they passed by a row of dormant locomotives waiting for a paint job, "That's a name?"

"Of course it's a name, and a good one at that!" Felix chuckled, looking mock offended for a moment, "You got yourself a name, you precocious little Pacific?"

"I'm…?" 831 hesitated. What even was her name? And what did Felix just call her now, a "Pacific"? 831 had so many questions, she didn't know where to start!

"Ma'am, if you don't mind me saying," Felix started, seeing her visible confusion, "but you look a bit cross-eyed."

"Well," 831 blushed, feeling embarrassment for the first time, "I just have a lot of… thoughts, right now?"

"I understand, miss," Felix sympathized, smiling, "Being a new engine's gave you a lot of new sensations and ideas, just wish we were all born with these questions answered." 831 blinked and agreed out of curiosity, as Felix continued.

"To give you a quick rundown," the little switcher said, "You're a steam locomotive, a four-six-two Pacific type, built here for the Jersey Central Railroad. Apparently, word goes they wanted some brand new engines for this fancy new express train, but who gives a damn, work's work, and that's good enough for us here!"

Felix presently pulled 831 up to a long line of low-bed flatcars, each with four huge lumps covered with tarp resting on their own flatcars. A small red caboose was behind the last flatcar, looking quite lonely. Felix came to a stop at the very end of the train and was uncoupled from her. 831 looked from the little switcher to the giant crane curiously, as men began to swarm around her and the crane's hook and frame slowly came down above her.

"What's going on now, Felix?" she wondered, looking up as massive chains were attached to the frame and tightened. She then yelped, feeling a tight sensation against her frames.

"Just lifting you up, Miss!" Felix grinned. He always enjoyed seeing engines lifted up for the first time.

"I-I don't think we're supposed to go… UP!" 831 yelped again, as the crane's exhaust began barking louder, straining with her weight. The chains slacked with a sharp metallic noise, as 831 was slowly lifted off the rails. The big blue locomotive shut her eyes tightly, biting her lower lip and blushing as she was lifted higher and higher, while Felix and the other men supervising watched on in amazement.

"I'd very much like to get down now!" 831 shouted, as she was swung to the side, over the flatcar.

"You'll be in a minute!" The crane's operator shouted as he pushed a lever forward, halting 831 in place. With another pull of a lever, the crane lowered 831 onto her flatcar, as the men around her pushed her side-to-side by her wheels, until the big engine rested upon the wooden ties on the bed. The freight car groaned in protest under her weight, as 831 was then covered up with a large tarp, shielding her from the bright sunlight.

"What's this for?" 831 wondered, as she suddenly could only hear her surroundings. Another bang and groan behind her presently indicated her tender had been lowered into place, but she didn't know this.

"Management wants to keep you a secret." One of the workmen answered, though 831 didn't know where, "So you and your siblings will be heading off now for Communipaw for a final check before your premiere next year."

"Oh, ok!" 831 responded, "Thank you!" The workman didn't respond back, but 831 didn't mind. She had siblings, other engines possibly like her! As she grew excited, a sudden jerk forced her out of her reverie as outside her view, two large 2-8-2 Mikados coupled up to the train, the word "READING" emblazoned in gold lettering upon their coal tenders. They were already talking amongst themselves as they coupled up to the train.

"More new engines?" The lead engine grunted, letting steam out of her cylinders.

"As usual." The second engine grumbled, huffing to himself, "More young'uns to deal with."

"Calm down, Clark" The lead engine chuckled, "You know you can't help your fatherly ways."

"If I were a father, Rachel, "Clark responded, "I'd be taking my belt more to them should they misbehave."

"Alright you two!" The foreman shouted over their argument, "You're all clear to go! Straight to Jersey City, now!"

"Yes sir!" They both shouted and let out two sharp blasts of their whistles. Another jerk rattled the train, as both locomotives struggled to get a grip on the rails with their heavy load.

Finally, with much snorting and puffing, the cavalcade slowly got underway and out of the works yard. 831 bounced gently on the flatcar as it clattered over rail joints and switches. It so happened that as they traveled along, a careless workman left the front of her tarp rope undone, causing it to suddenly blow and flutter away from her face. This allowed 831 to experience the sunlight again, making her smile for the first time as the train slowly continued on its way towards her new home.

The ride out of Philadelphia was mostly quiet for the slow moving cavalcade. The two steam locomotives at the front mostly kept quiet as they crawled almost agonizingly slowly up the line to New Jersey. Their top-heavy loads creaked and clacked behind them as twin spouts of grey-white smoke shot out into the sky, their artillery-like reports echoing off retaining walls and buildings to create a massive, cacophonic noise. 831 hadn't dared talked to the others yet, out of shyness since she considered them to be total strangers. In actuality, all she knew spanned from the paint shed to the flatbed car she now rode upon, and that still raised so many questions: What exactly was she, where was she going, and what were all those creatures swarming around her? At the nearest red signal, 831 got up her courage, which was an odd feeling, and decided she'd ask any engine around her what exactly was going on.

"Um, hello…?" 831 called out as Clark and Rachel's exhausts died down. A voice in front of the lumpy tarp in front of her spoke up.

"Hello yourself!" Said a rich male voice in front.

"I'm sorry," 831 grimaced as she squinted shut, still quite nervous, "But who are you?"

"Why," The voice responded, chuckling a little, "I'm your brother, 831! I'm 832!"

"Oh!" 831 smiled warmly, sighing in relief, "I'm happy to meet you then!"

"Absolutely, pleasure's ours!" 832 continued, chuckling to himself, "The one in front of me is 833, our younger sister!"

"Hello!" responded a youthful, bubbly voice from the very front, sounding quite faint as the train began to move forward again.

"So…" 831 asked, "What're we doing, exactly?"

"Well!" 832 responded, as they passed over a railroad crossing, "Management up in this state called 'New Jersey' wanted us built for some fancy passenger train next...year, was it? Something like that…" He paused for a moment, then continued, "So while you were in the shed being painted last, the shop crews kinda already made us privy to the fact that we're engines, steam locomotives actually!"

"Oh!" 831 exclaimed as they flew under a road bridge, "Like that little one, Felix?"

"Exactly right, sis!" 832 exclaimed, "Still trying to figure out a name for myself, though. I've seriously no idea what to call myself!"

"Same here!" 833 squealed from the front. 831 frowned, she hadn't thought of that yet at all. It was odd that Felix called himself "Felix", or that the other engines had names and such. Perhaps it was a sign of individuality? This struck 831 as significant, as perhaps her brother and sister looked so much like her that they needed to be individualized by name.

The Pacific thought hard about her choice as the train continued to slowly snake its way Northeast. Around them, big city skylines soon gave way to broad, rolling farmscapes, dotted with cows and horses that took only a bare, fleeting glimpse at the cavalcade of trains passing by them. Sometimes, there would be children at recess from school, gathering at the fence bordering the train line to see the big steam locomotives thundering their way past. The two Consolidations each would blast their whistles for the children, and 831 got to see the kids scream and cheer every time they passed by.

By the time they reached West Trenton, having crossed into New Jersey, Rachel had stopped to take on water at a water tower. As the trains waited, 831 looked up at the noontime sun shining down on her silver smokebox. The idea for a name still lingered in her mind, and nothing was coming to her at all.

"I can't think of anything…" She finally said to her siblings, as Rachel's tender was halfway full.

"I may have a suggestion," Clark replied, "Since you all are taking on the Blue Comet and are painted blue, why not something that starts with the letter B?" All three engines gave it a thought, as 831's eyes looked over a white milk truck that was parked out by the West Trenton Station building.

"What about that… white thing, there?" SHe said, directing Clark to look over at the milk truck.

"That thing?" He asked incredulously, "You want to name yourself after a milk truck?"

"Oh, no no!" 831 protested, "I meant the color!"

"Ooooh!" Clark realized, laughing to himself, "So, something like Blanche?"

"Blanche?" 833 giggled, "Sounds like an old woman!"

"Perhaps something else…?" 831 responded, groaning at her sister's incessant giggling.

"Alright then!" Clark wondered, remembering the name of one of his engineer's wives, "What about Bianca?"

"Bianca…" 831 pondered, "I like it! It's a nice name!"

"Excellent!" Clark cheered, "Now what about you other two…?"

"I was thinking something like "Bernard"," 832 said, "I saw it on a big billboard in one of the towns we went through."

"What, Bernard Hewitt?" Rachel laughed, as her tank was soon filled and the train was ready to go, "That's a fashion catalogue!"

"I still like the name," Bernard said proudly, "Suits this fine voice pretty well."

"Alright then!" Clark smiled as the two locomotives began their journey again, passing by the West Trenton Station Building, "What about you, 833?"

"Bwehla?" 833 suddenly blurted out as her flatcar rolled over some points. All engines were taken aback by the sudden gibberish out of her mouth, but Bernard decided to press further.

"Sister, did you say "Biela"?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I… think I did?" 833 said, about as confused as he was, "Why, is it a good name?"

"Well," Clark started, "It's rather unique. Biela, it's a nice name!"

"Yay!" Biela cheered, bouncing on her flatcar slightly, clicking and clacking along the tracks.

As the other engines began to converse, Bianca continued to look out her tarp at the wide open scenery around her. In a few hours, they would be in Jersey City and their new home. Bianca, smiling from markerlight to markerlight, couldn't possibly wait, and she knew, neither could her wonderful siblings. While the sun continued to slowly set in the sky as the hours whiled away, the small towns soon grew into larger towns and small cities. Before anyone knew it, the engines were soon in the jagged shadow of Jersey City's sparkling skyline. Home lay waiting.

/o oOOO o - o o o o


	3. Live and Learn

Chapter 2: Live and Learn

 _Communipaw Terminal, Jersey City, NJ_

The bustling port city of Jersey City was awash with noise that late afternoon. Almost everywhere one could look, there was the hustle and bustle of a big city, with both people and trains rushing about to their destinations. Steam ferries from Communipaw Station belched black coal smoke into the air, their low whistles howling across the bay as fast express trains rushed their way into the platforms. Those arriving trains were eager to exchange their passengers with the ferries, while departing trains rushed away as soon as one train would arrive. The whole operation ran as tight as a watch, and all the engines made sure to keep it running that way, for the glory of the Central Railroad of New Jersey. All of them, except for one.

On one of the far tracks, a black locomotive was hurrying in with a late boat express. Sweat and soot glistened on her stylish brow as she puffed into the depot, her brakes squealing in protest as the five-car train clattered and banged behind her. With a sudden jolt of a stop, the locomotive breathed a sigh of relief while she watched her passengers disembark. They seemed a bit rattled, to say the least, but she didn't mind. She was an antique, but she knew any engine couldn't compete with her speedy design.

She an Atlantic Type from 1901, with four small wheels up front, four big drivers in the middle, and a single axle with two wheels each on her rear. What made her stand out from the other locomotives around her was that her cab was midway down her length, with an enormous firebox taking up the rest of her rear end. This meant she could burn coal more efficiently and reach higher pressures for higher speed, at the cost of leaving her fireman without a proper shelter. The other engines and crew referred to her as a "Camelback", on account of her air-tanks being mounted atop her firebox; but to herself she remained "Ingrid", number 592, and the pride of the Jersey Central's high-speed fleet. Well, almost…

"Another late arrival?" Her engineer called as he climbed down from her cab, "What's going on, Ingrid? Losing your touch?"

"Losing my touch?" Ingrid frowned, huffing, "Absolutely not, I can still compete with whatever this damned railroad can throw at me! I was Enrico Caruso's locomotive, after all!"

"That late arrival didn't really help!" Her fireman called, putting another shovelful of coal into her massive firebox, "Third time this week, too! You sure you're not coming down with something?" Ingrid scoffed and turned up her nose.

"I can assure you that I am _not_ in any time to be replaced!" She said indignantly as she was uncoupled. The conductor on her train, a rather portly man with a moustache, tisk-tisked as he walked up to her. He was looking at his pocket watch, a stern look upon his face.

"Ten minutes, Ingrid." He said, looking up at her with a frown. Ingrid glared back as he continued, "What happened, couldn't make up time after Red Bank?"

"That freight knew what he was doing, delaying me on the line!" Ingrid barked indignantly, as the conductor sighed and facepalmed.

"One more slip up like this," He replied, setting his stopwatch away, "and I'll see to it you're on stopping trains until you can be trusted with expresses again." Ingrid rolled her eyes as her train was uncoupled and dragged away by a switcher. She didn't want to damn him with a response, and neither did her driver and fireman. It was time for her, then, to go back to the shed. However, as another train pulled in beside her, Ingrid knew she wouldn't hear the end of this.

"Ten minutes late?" The engine called as he pulled into the station, steam billowing from his cylinders and his brakes squealing to a stop, "Good heavens, Ingrid, and everyone here thinks you're the recordsetter!"

"Shut the hell up, Cornell," Ingrid spat at the larger black Pacific, which was numbered 820, next to her, as her engineer pulled her reversing lever back, "Irwin held me up at the junction at Red Bank, I'll see to it that little Consolidation gets his tender handed to him, the little pr-!"

All of a sudden, Ingrid's safety valve went off. This gave her engineer and fireman the notification that perhaps it was time to let Ingrid cool off for the day. With three toots on her whistle, the grumpy Atlantic backed away from Communipaw Terminal. Cornell, eager to rile up Ingrid one more time, yelled out, "I heard commuter stopping trains are as glamorous as expresses, you know!" The big locomotive then let out a hearty laugh as he saw the last of his passengers leave the platform, Ingrid's vulgar response drowned out by the ferries close by.

Navigating through Communipaw yard was usually a struggle for any new locomotive, whether switcher or express engine, but Ingrid was used to the high levels of clutter and confusing points by now. Around her, a sea of passenger coaches and freight cars lay strewn higgledy-piggledy across the vast, snaking ribbons of steel rails that made up the main yard. Ingrid only huffed in indifference as her crew led her to the lead track of the local roundhouse, but her grumpy demeanour soon changed as she noticed three new locomotives in some of the stalls of the big round wooden building. They were all Pacific types, with four wheels at the front, six impressive drive wheels with drive rods sparkling like nickel steel, and two wheels under their cab. They all sported a bright azure color along their entire body, with elegant gold striping on their cylinders, drive wheels and pilot front. Atop their smoke-boxes were large blue cylinders, almost resembling a popular hairstyle of the time. However, what caught Ingrid's eye was the name attached to those cylinders, in gold lettering upon a dark royal blue background:

 **T H E** **T**

The engines were comprised of two girls and one boy, each gazing upon the yard with wonder and curiosity. Ingrid frowned, were these locomotives here to replace _her_? Incredulously, she gently chugged onto the turntable and turned her attention to the three engines.

"Hello…" She said, flatly, turning to face the middle one which was 832, "I don't think we've met yet…"

"Ah, well…" Bernard started, sporting a rich baritone voice that Ingrid thought would have been well suited to a radio drama, "We're the new express locomotives for the Blue Comet! I'm Barnard, otherwise 832, and these are my sisters, Bianca, number 831, and Biela, number 833." Bianca looked at Ingrid and gave off a friendly grin, while Biela was more occupied with watching a flock of seagulls dart their way across the bay.

"Nice to meet you all." Ingrid replied, looking unimpressed, "I'm Ingrid, number 592, and I'm _the_ pride of the Jersey Central main line! Don't you forget that!" A chorus of giggles from the other end of the roundhouse erupted in response, making Ingrid's nostrils flare in annoyance.

"Hey Eva, isn't coming in late twice this week a new record?" Stated a Consolidation type from one end of the shed, his gruff voice carrying through the indistinct noises of the railway yard.

"Of course, Erik!" Eva, a large tender switching engine, replied with a haughty laugh, "Can't imagine management's gonna be proud of _that_ anytime soon!" Ingrid fumed as she was turned around and backed into the roundhouse next to Bianca, her face redder than a stop signal. The blue Pacific next to her glanced over at Ingrid and was slightly scared for her, so she decided to break the ice.

"So, uh…" Bianca began, biting her lip, "What are you? I know you're a steam locomotive, but, I've never seen one like you.

"Oh, you haven't, have you?" Ingrid responded, biting her tongue to avoid blowing up at the young engine, "I'm a Camelback type, mean to burn coal efficiently for more speed. It's thanks to this nifty firebox I got, and I see you three got one too."

"We do?" The three Blue Comets responded, trying to look back along themselves as Ingrid's crew steamed her down for the evening. As her fireman doused her fire and dropped her ashes, Ingrid could only giggle at their naivete.

"Of course you do," She replied with a smirk, amused, "Means you can pull trains as efficiently as I can!" The three other engines oohed, as Barnard was looking down at the men working around Ingrid with interest.

"Mind if I ask what they do?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course!" Ingrid's engineer responded in a heavy Southern accent, wiping the oil and soot off of his forehead with a handkerchief, "I'm Wilson Bechet, her driver! I basically control her speed and direction. That man there on her running board's my good friend, Billy Ronan! His job's to make sure Ingrid here's fed and watered so she doesn't run out of fuel!" Billy waved from his spot in acknowledgement, before going back to inspecting Ingrid's sand dome pipes.

"Fed and watered?" Bianca asked, now curious herself, "meaning…?"

"Meaning," Ingrid replied quickly, that we all run our fires on coal and use water to make steam that drives us. Simple stuff really, though I hear of some engines in the west running on oil. What do they they are, oil-electrics?" She then let out a laugh as the other Comets looked at each other in confusion. Even Biela, who decided to listen in on the conversation, barely understood what she was talking about.

"Ah well, though," Ingrid sighed, cooling down for the day as she looked out to the darkening horizon, "I do digress. I guess you engines will learn more tomorrow when you're first steamed up. Trust me, it's an amazing experience."

"So, what do we do now?" Bernard wondered, looking up at the bright stars beginning to shine above them.

"You sleep!" Eva giggled, "Just rest up for now!"

"So, how do we do that?" Biela asked in her ditzy tone, watching the men begin to leave the sheds for the night. As one workman passed by the engines, he flipped a switch in a small fusebox and walked away. the roundhouse's lights suddenly went on, flooding the roundhouse in bright yellow light. All three Pacifics winced at the brightness, as Erik and Eva had their shed doors closed.

"Well…" Ingrid began, before letting out a yawn, "You just close your eyes… and sleep. It'll come naturally to you…" With that, the Atlantic closed her own tired eyes and sighed, trying to relax. The three Pacifics looked at each other before deciding to try it out amongst themselves. They squinted their eyes tight, like how the other engines did it, and just sat there. The sounds of the yard were now quieted in the night, with only Cornell leaving to take a night sleeper train south into New Jersey. After a few minutes, the whispering began.

"Hey…" Bernard whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "You girls asleep yet…?"

"No…" Bianca responded, her eyes still shut, "Can't get the hang of this sleeping business.. What about you, sis?"

"Same…" Biela sighed mournfully, "We're gonna have to try and figure this out ourselves."

"Right," the other two responded. And so, for the rest of the night, they remained half-asleep, eyes closed but not falling asleep one bit. Above them, a shooting star streaked across the night sky, but all ignored it as they tried to sleep.

/o oOOO o - o o o o


End file.
